


Lethallin

by ArtemisBrown



Series: Lost in Dreams [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Broken Circle, F/M, Fade Dreams, Lost in Dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-18 15:42:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4711373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtemisBrown/pseuds/ArtemisBrown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Warden's Fade dream is almost too beautiful to leave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lethallin

**Author's Note:**

> It always bothered me that the Warden's fade dream was about Duncan. It seemed like it would have made for a better, more intense story to have it relate to the origin of the Warden in question. As I have always adored the Dalish origin, I figured I'd start here. No promises that I'll get around to the other origins, but I hope you enjoy this one at least.
> 
> This might have a second chapter at some point. This was only half of what I'd originally planned, but my ideas for the rest were too hazy to solidify into anything usable.

Ferelden had such a beautiful abundance of wildlife. She heard the many exotic calls of songbirds, and the babbling of a stream helped pull her from her deep sleep. These were the noises Talwyn clung to during her travels, the ones that had been a part of her for so long. She heard them every morning when she awoke, and in the evenings during supper. Ever present, the familiar noises echoed in her pointed ears, even as she bathed and slept, laughed and hunted. And the smells! The distinct smell of the forest - fresh, healthy plantlife, crisp green moss, the bark of the trees, even the musk of the halla. She was home.

Then why did this feel so wrong?

Talwyn pushed back the flaps to her aravel and emerged into the camp. Feeling fuzzy and lethargic, she found herself simply mirroring the smiles and greetings of familiar faces. Junar even stopped her to tell her how happy he was for her return. Before she could ask any questions, he was off to catch up with Pol. The young city elf, who was looking far more like one of their own than the last time she’d seen him. He had yet to get his tattoos, but she looked forward to seeing them earned, in time.

At a tap on her shoulder, Talwyn whirled on her heels.

“Fenarel!” She gaped. “It’s been so long. I thought I’d never see you again. Any of you!”

He chuckled. “But you’re back now, looking better than ever. We should speak later. Tamlen is in his tent. He has been waiting to welcome you.”

Tamlen. Of course! Her Tamlen. Tamlen, who made her hold his hand when he got his vallaslin; who picked her favorite berries for her when she came down with a fever. The one who was always by her side, hunting or eating or sitting around the aravel, listening to Ilen weave his stories. Tamlen, who she did everything with.

“Yes, of course Fenarel.” She said, “I should go!”

He laughed again as she pushed past him, making a beeline for Tamlen’s tent.

She’d missed him so much. After years of being inseparable, parting was like agony. She peeked through the entrance to his aravel, and her breath caught. There he was, sitting on a fur rug, cleaning his dagger. The same sandy hair and grey eyes. He hadn’t changed a bit. When he caught a glimpse of her from the corner of his eyes, he fumbled with the dagger. On its way to the floor, the blade sliced his finger.

“Ah-ow!”

Talwyn smiled, unable to hold back a snicker. “Always getting yourself into trouble. Let me help.” She knelt next to him, drawing a bandage from her pouch.

“Why worry about trouble when you’re always here to take care of me?” They shared a look, and when the cut was properly patched up, he touched her cheek with his fingertips. “I missed you, Lethallan.”

She gripped his hand, and smiled fondly at him. “I missed you too.”

They hugged tightly for a moment, until he pulled away. “I was getting ready to hunt. Come with me?”

She nodded, her mouth stretching into a grin. “Just like old times.” Like none of it had ever happened.

The thought gave her pause. None of what, exactly?

Before long, they reached the edge of camp. The forest was quiet now, and the chattering from camp was beginning to die down.

Tamlen moved branches aside for her as they trekked through their old trail, as he always did. “You should have seen his face. Paivel was so mad!” He almost giggled, recounting a tale. “I think Pol hid from him for a whole month after that.”

How long had she been away? And what was she doing before? It only now occurred to her, how strange she must look. This armor she wore certainly wasn’t elven craftsmanship. Was it dwarven? How absurd.

“Tamlen, what happened to the-”

He shushed her. “A deer. Would you like to take this one?”

Talwyn smiled halfheartedly and drew back an arrow. There was a pressure at the base of her skull, the kind that happened when she was on edge, or when she was dutifully patrolling around camp. Something bothered her about all this. She wanted to think back on her journey, and what led her to leave in the first place, but it was so difficult to focus. Maybe she was just overwhelmed. It had been a long time, after all. She let the arrow fly.

It missed, hitting a nearby tree. The deer started and leapt away.

Tamlen sniggered, and patted her on the shoulder. “You’re just rusty. You’ll be great again in no time. Just maybe not as good as me.”

She rolled her eyes and stood, shoving him. “Ah yes, the great Tamlen. Who was the one that once missed their target completely, and ended up shooting a bear in the rump?” He opened his mouth to protest, but she shook her head and grinned. “And remind me, who was the one who protected you from the bear in question?”

He laughed jovially at this. “Alright, fine, so you’re at least as good as I am.” As they headed further into the forest, he brushed his knuckles against the back of her hand. Eventually, their fingers laced together. After a long period of silence, one that was neither uncomfortable nor unwelcome, he brushed his nose against her ear.

“I missed you so much, Lethallan.”

Talwyn gave his hand a squeeze. Whatever the journey was about, it couldn’t be more important than this. Than him. She couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t the most meaningful thing in her world. He always had been, and it was becoming more and more evident that he always would be.

Tamlen stopped suddenly to pluck at something near his feet. He offered her the fragile looking flower, with white, silky petals and a burst of red-orange in the center. “Here. Nearly as beautiful as you.”

Her stomach churned, and it felt as if the earth had been torn from beneath her feet. She felt a sheen of sweat break over her skin and she felt more grubby than she had a moment ago.

What was happening? Why did she feel so wrong?

Still, she curled her fingers around his, and twirled the flower between them. She was sure her face had gone pallid.

“What’s this for?”

Tamlen’s distinct smile spread across his face. She could never forget the way the corners of his eyes crinkled, or how the left side of his mouth stretched just a bit more than the right. There was comfort in that smile, and familiarity, but it didn't stop her from feeling inexplicably uncomfortable. 

“It caught my eye, just like you always do.” His lovely grey eyes focused intently on hers, but there was something off about them. Something swirled just beyond the colorless rings of his irises. Something unnatural, even. “I love you, Lethallan. We belong together.”

She must have stared back at him for a whole minute, distinctly aware that she had began to tremble.

A flower as a gift? She had been given something like this before by someone close to her.

Alistair. She had been with Alistair not long ago. What happened to him? Her last memory of him was his tired expression, how the fire in his eyes began to waver as he cursed at… a demon?

Creators, no.

Tamlen stroked her cheek with the pad of his thumb, concern painting his brow “Lethallan, why are you crying?”

Talwyn hadn’t even noticed until he said it, but she could feel the tears falling from her lashes.

“Because you aren’t real.” She choked out. His fingers slipped away from hers as she pulled back. A glance between them revealed the blood on her armor. The flower fell from her grasp, and much like he had, it withered before her eyes.

“Tamlen. Tamlen, I miss you so much.”

How long could she stay before she too faded away, taken by the demon who controlled her? Would it be so bad if she stayed, to spend the rest of her days in this beautiful nightmare? With Tamlen?

No.

There were others with her. They depended on her, they needed her. Just like she had always needed Tamlen.

His eyes moved around her face as he desperately tried to read her expressions and divine their meaning. Only… she knew that he… _it_ already understood. None of this was real, or genuine. Not the trees, not the animals, not her clan… not Tamlen. When it opened its arms to her, her hand flew to the hilt of her sword, heart pounding.

“Talwyn, I’m right here. What on earth is the matter?” The voice of the demon quavered with false concern.

Talwyn drew Starfang now, ready to attack. “How dare you take his form? Stay away from me, whatever you are. Stay back!”

Its expression grew steely. A cold flame burst forth, reminding her of the winters spent with her clan. The forest dropped away and the thing in front of her changed. A desire demon, unlike any she had seen before, hovered above her. Masculine, and just as immoral and seductive as its feminine counterpart.

“I do wish you would stay, Lethallan.”  She grimaced at the profane sound - it had shed Tamlen’s face, but his voice remained.

“Where are the others?”

“The others are happy. They don’t need you. Let them dwell in their tranquility.”

“Halam sahlin!” Tears overflowed as she rushed at the foul thing with her sword. Just as the tip of Starfang pierced through its flesh, it slid into Tamlen’s visage again, a taunting smile on its lips. Talwyn stared in horror at her sword, buried deep in his stomach. The thing collapsed to the ground, wheezing. She stood above it, her chest stuttering with restrained sobs, as it coughed weakly, blood sputtering from its mouth, and running down its cheeks.

“He died alone.” It croaked.

It wasn’t true. She knew for a fact that it wasn’t true, but she couldn’t stop herself. In a flash, Talwyn was on top of it, her dagger buried deep in its throat. “Do not speak of my Lathallin with your poison tongue.”

As it faded back into its true demonic form she let out a sigh of relief and anguish, wiping the tears from her eyes. Her Fade nightmare lifted around her slowly, and she traveled across impossible landscapes in search of her companions… in search of Alistair.

 


End file.
